Welcome To My World, Stranger
Man ***
Of course, I had to force Jack to let Zaccheus stay;
But in the end, Jack got to like him.
As the months passed, I found out much more about Zaccheus.
And he found out much more about me.
On my 16th birthday, a year later, Zaccheus and Jack bought me a set of drums so I could learn while Zacc continued on his bass guitar.
And in the same year, on Zaccheus’ 18th birthday, we gave him some starter money to rent an apartment.
I spent most of my time at Zacc’s new place, creating music with him and his new friend Johnny – a 17 year old guitarist.
We were then called: ‘Harlequin Smashed’.
I watched Zacc pack away his bass guitar, my drum sticks tapping carelessly upon my snare drum.
A blonde haired boy lay on his back and threw guitar picks against the white paint splattered wall, humming the tune from our 4th song: Nothing Is Stopping Us.
“Johnny, get off your arse and help me move this table.” Zacc grunted, attempting to shove a rather small, but heavy wooden piece of furniture to the side.
The blonde shifts onto his side and props his head up on his elbow, rolling his grey eyes lazily.
“Christopher, why don’t you help him?”
I carelessly throw one of my drumsticks at Johnny and walk over to Zaccheus.
In a few seconds, the table is shifted underneath a large window.
I sit on the table and look around our band room.
CDs, music books and pieces of paper litter the floor, as well as Johnny’s multicoloured plastic guitar picks.
Johnny got up to a kneeling position and began to collect his picks.
Zaccheus cleared some CDs away from the middle of the room with his feet before coming towards me.
He sat next to me on the table and took my hand in his.
I smirked and placed my head on his shoulder wearily.
Johnny looked over and up righted himself, grinning widely.
“’Ey, what about me, eh?
Don’t I get any love?”
He puts his guitar picks in the pocket of his jeans and walks over.
I roll my eyes, slip off the table slowly and approach Johnny;
I then size him up through half-lidded eyes.
I can feel Zacc’s curious eyes on the back of my head.
Johnny’s face is etched with interest as my tongue slides along my bottom lip.
His hands wrap around my waist and I place my hands on either side of his head, pulling him in for a wet kiss.
Zacc wolf whistles as I pull away.
“Was that enough love for you, Johnny?”
Johnny’s lips pull into a tight, satisfied smile; he nods and exits the room, mumbling to himself.
“What the fuck, Christopher; you’re such a man-whore.
Kiss me.”
I turn to see Zaccheus extending a hand to me, pouting.
I slide over to him on the floorboards and grin.
I place my hands on his legs and lean in closer to his face;
I lick his cheek and he moans softly, bringing his hands up to the small of my back.
“Man-whore my arse – you enjoy it.”
But in the end, Jack got to like him.
As the months passed, I found out much more about Zaccheus.
And he found out much more about me.
On my 16th birthday, a year later, Zaccheus and Jack bought me a set of drums so I could learn while Zacc continued on his bass guitar.
And in the same year, on Zaccheus’ 18th birthday, we gave him some starter money to rent an apartment.
I spent most of my time at Zacc’s new place, creating music with him and his new friend Johnny – a 17 year old guitarist.
We were then called: ‘Harlequin Smashed’.
I watched Zacc pack away his bass guitar, my drum sticks tapping carelessly upon my snare drum.
A blonde haired boy lay on his back and threw guitar picks against the white paint splattered wall, humming the tune from our 4th song: Nothing Is Stopping Us.
“Johnny, get off your arse and help me move this table.” Zacc grunted, attempting to shove a rather small, but heavy wooden piece of furniture to the side.
The blonde shifts onto his side and props his head up on his elbow, rolling his grey eyes lazily.
“Christopher, why don’t you help him?”
I carelessly throw one of my drumsticks at Johnny and walk over to Zaccheus.
In a few seconds, the table is shifted underneath a large window.
I sit on the table and look around our band room.
CDs, music books and pieces of paper litter the floor, as well as Johnny’s multicoloured plastic guitar picks.
Johnny got up to a kneeling position and began to collect his picks.
Zaccheus cleared some CDs away from the middle of the room with his feet before coming towards me.
He sat next to me on the table and took my hand in his.
I smirked and placed my head on his shoulder wearily.
Johnny looked over and up righted himself, grinning widely.
“’Ey, what about me, eh?
Don’t I get any love?”
He puts his guitar picks in the pocket of his jeans and walks over.
I roll my eyes, slip off the table slowly and approach Johnny;
I then size him up through half-lidded eyes.
I can feel Zacc’s curious eyes on the back of my head.
Johnny’s face is etched with interest as my tongue slides along my bottom lip.
His hands wrap around my waist and I place my hands on either side of his head, pulling him in for a wet kiss.
Zacc wolf whistles as I pull away.
“Was that enough love for you, Johnny?”
Johnny’s lips pull into a tight, satisfied smile; he nods and exits the room, mumbling to himself.
“What the fuck, Christopher; you’re such a man-whore.
Kiss me.”
I turn to see Zaccheus extending a hand to me, pouting.
I slide over to him on the floorboards and grin.
I place my hands on his legs and lean in closer to his face;
I lick his cheek and he moans softly, bringing his hands up to the small of my back.
“Man-whore my arse – you enjoy it.”